by Robert York
“Sadly, yes...” This time Yoshida managed an ironic smile. “The council is never usually in agreement unless there is something they feel threatens their power and control,”
One of the Black Guards leaned in saying something that the rest of us could not hear. Yoshida turned his head giving it a slight nod.
“It would appear my friend that the council requires my presence,”
Barnabas nodded.
“Until our next meeting,” Yoshida said turning walking away followed by his bodyguards.
I had no inkling of the magnitude of the hornet’s nest that Barnabas stirred up with his secret organization. The magically fortified relics from Arthur’s reign or the deaths of seven powerful junior members of the Elder council, but from what I knew of the magical communities predilection for scapegoating and vengeance for blood any contact with the council wasn’t good by any stretch of the imagination. I felt for him. Barnabas lost what constituted the bulk of his close friends and colleagues, now he’d have to suffer through an inquest that may cost him more than he could ever possibly realize.
The next to step forward was Lord Foxmoor and his people. They moved like tall wheat swaying in a lazy summer breeze. Their movements were fascinating to watch. Lord Foxmoor stopped a respectable distance from Barnabas placing a hand on his right bicep, the traditional Elf greeting.
“Tis well to see you again Barnabas,”
“Lord Foxmoor,” Barnabas replied by placing a hand on Lord Foxmoor’s left bicep - the proper response to an Elf greeting - “It is agreeable to see you here,”
Lord Foxmoor inclined his head as he let his hand fall regally from Barnabas’s arm.
“Oswald was a good man and a good friend, I could not honor his memory by keeping my distance from this gathering,”
He looked about admiringly.
“Do you think Oswald would have approve of this day for his memorial,” he asked fishing for a compliment.
Wood Elves are notoriously vain, requiring a steady stream of compliments. Should any of you reading this encounter a Wood Elf, be sure to complement their hair or shoes it’ll save you about an hour and a half of them talking about themselves. Trust me.
Barnabas looked about as well, a satisfied smile on his face.
“He would Lord Foxmoor and Thank you for your efforts,”
“Twas the least I could do,”
“Wait,” I interjected. “You’re responsible for this weather?”
Lord Foxmoor turned wearily in my direction. My question appearing to be a nuisance, like a buzzing mosquito. I immediately regretted my outburst. He locked his gaze on mine. His eyes were deep and unfathomable like peering at a wall of approaching storm clouds. Beautiful, yet potentially deadly in their gathering fury.
“Lord Foxmoor, I’d like to introduce my apprentice Solomon Drake,” Barnabas said hurriedly attempting to help my ineptitude at Elf etiquette.
Lord Foxmoor’s dark brown eyes grew wider peering deeper into mine. Though he didn’t speak, I thought I saw recognition. The whole event creeped me out especially when it felt like I was being drawn into his eyes, I could sense a deep unfathomable chasm awaiting me. Luckily I had enough presence of mind to push back against his efforts with my own mental defenses - as meager as they were - to get him to stop. If he wanted to, he had the power to fry my brain with just a thought. Instead, Lord Foxmoor languidly closed his eyes breaking our thinly tethered link. His look of recognition fading replaced by his distant regal mask.
“You’ll have to excuse him Lord Foxmoor, he doesn’t have the knowledge of your people nor the proper training in etiquette, please accept my apologies,” Barnabas said, bowing deeply in supplication.
“Yes,” Lord Foxmoor replied thoughtfully. “As with all things in nature and in life there are always first steps,” he continued. “When next we meet I hope that you are not so, disrespectful... I would dislike having to make an example of you,” he finished with an icy edge to his words.
Abandoning my usual manner of mindless banter I remained quiet. What just happened may have been... To be honest I had no idea what just happened, but I knew I didn’t want Lord Foxmoor’s attention fixed upon me again. I was far from recovered from my wounds and didn’t want any new ones to deal with. Yeah, I know I should be asking a few questions, because let’s face it that episode was creepy, but self-preservation was more important at the moment.
“As a favor to you and those who wish to visit this place again, I will leave the enchantment in place for one full moon,” Lord Foxmoor said.
“Thank you, Lord Foxmoor,” Barnabas said bowing deeply. “Your generosity knows no bounds,”
His mouth quirked up into a self absorbed smile. Lord Foxmoor puffed out his chest inclining his head impressively, the way a rooster might right before he crows.
“I will take my leave of you now,” he said.
He turned to leave, his eyes lingering on me as they had before, but only for an instant. The look of recognition was still there yet it looked more certain this time. He and his people moved toward the oak tree. When they got within a few feet of the massive trunk, their bodies changed or transformed into a majestic herd of elk. They vanished one by one as though they were walking through an invisible doorway and were gone.
“What was that all about,” I asked my eyes still focused on the point they disappeared.
“We’ll talk another time,” Barnabas replied after a hesitation. “When you’re healed and better rested.”
Which meant, if I stave you off long enough you’d forget about the whole thing. That wasn’t going to happen this time, there were too many questions I’ve stored up to ask. I pondered this new piece to the puzzle of my past as Race moved over to Barnabas shaking his hand. Morgan was conspicuously absent from his side.
“Sorry about Oswald,” Race began. “I didn’t know him, but you did and that’s good enough for me.”
“Thank you Race and Thank you for your help,” Barnabas replied.
Race smiled a cocky smile.
“You pay me like you did this go round and I’ll do whatever you want,” He paused then amended his statement by saying, “Within reason of course. I won’t do any sexual favors or anything sick like that,”
“And nor should you,” Barnabas replied.
“Maybe I’ll make a living out of this mercenary thing, I’ve been checking around and you can make some good money at it,”
Barnabas nodded.
“Did you take the money I gave you to that financial planner like I suggested,” Barnabas asked.
“Yep, he’s putting it away for me so it’ll grow over time and I won’t have to worry about money. I gave some of it to Abner cause he’s been pretty good to me, seemed only right,” Race said.
“Good man,” Barnabas said proudly. “Abner needs all the help he can get,”
“Where’s Morgan,” I asked forcing my way into the conversation.
“She had to go back with her boss, she said something about that was part of her agreement in order to be with me... The whole Vampire, Werewolf thing,” He said disappointed.
I nodded thoughtfully.
“Aren’t you afraid that her being one of Adrianna’s junior familiars that she’ll betray you one day?” I asked.
Race snorted.
“Trust me, she ain’t got no mark anywhere on her body,”
Barnabas’s ears colored in embarrassment; I think I just sat there stunned and slack jawed.
“Well,” he continued. “If you ever need me again Barnabas you know where to find me.”
The two men shook hands once again.
“Thank you again Race and give my regards to Abner,”
“I will,”
Race turned toward me.
“You did pretty good out there, Take care of yourself Sol.”
Then the bastard slapped me on my bad shoulder walking away disappearing at the point near the tree where all the others did. Payback was all I could think about.
/>
Everyone else had departed except our little group. Mari, Glum, Frankenstein and Tilly joined us. Glum’s eyes looking even puffier than before. Barnabas moved over reluctantly by the stone marker for his turn beside Oswald’s grave. I got a good look at what was chiseled into the stone from my vantage point. There were only a few lines on the grave-marker. His name was at the top in large bold letters “Oswald Archibald Gleason”.
Huh...
I knew the man for over a decade and never knew his middle name was Archibald. I need to ask more questions. There was no date indicating the year in which he was born, nor the year he died. Below Oswald’s name was only a quote that I didn’t recognize it read.
“Be happy for this moment, for this moment is your life.”
I pondered the words in quiet thought. It was just like Oswald to think of others before himself even in death. It was as if he was telling us it’s OK to stop mourning and just move on. My troubles are over while yours are still on going. There was also another meaning contained in those words. Be joyous because you still hold the gift of life.
“I’ll do my best Oswald.” I thought. “I promise.”
“How are you feeling,” asked Mari.
Sluggishly I came out of my deep thoughts about the words carved into the grave-marker. I shrugged.
“I’m doing OK... The pain isn’t bad at the moment,” I replied.
“I’ll give you another pain pill when we stop for lunch,”
I nodded.
Barnabas turned back to us. Though he was good at shielding his emotions from most people, I could tell he’d let a few tears fall. Mari went to him. She took him into her arms. They hugged in a loving caring embrace. I averted my eyes as not to pry into their moment. After an intimate pause, they broke their hug both looking in our direction.
“Well who’s hungry,” Barnabas asked. “I don’t mind telling you all I’m famished.”
That seemed to perk everyone up, as the mention of food often does. Even Glum whose normal appetite has been stunted of late, seemed interested.
“I’ve been told that there is a little pub called The Dolphin in town that serves a palatable crab sandwich,”
He and Mari turned walking ahead of us followed by Glum. Frankenstein pushed my wheelchair chatting with me the entire way. Tilly kept pace beside us interjecting tidbits of information as we started off toward Whitby for a lunch that proved to be filling, yet somber.
Chapter 30
Isat at my desk fending off a tired yawn, logging out of an online game I play. I won’t say which one it is so don’t ask. Suffice it to say if you see a toon named Solomon Drake running around in an MMO you frequent chances are good that it’s me. I pushed away from the desk, leaning back in my office chair shutting my eyes. It wasn’t terribly late, maybe around eleven thirty, but I still felt fatigued. It was a good bet I’d fall asleep in that chair even though my bed was three or four feet away. A little over a month had past since the funeral and the reading of Oswald’s Will. Which was on the same day as the funeral.
After we finished our lunch in Whitby, we traveled to Oswald’s lawyer’s office. Mr. Bubblesby read us the will. Most of his fortune was placed in a trust for Glum and his eventual needs. I was glad that Mari was the one overseeing his money. I knew that she would take care of it and Glum. Barnabas received all of Oswald’s magical equipment as well as his home and other properties. Oswald gave his stake in the Rothgar Ale Company back to the Rothgar family, who were ecstatic to get those shares back. Oswald also provided a small inheritance to me as well. I was stunned to say the least. The sum wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough for me to put away for a rainy day. Things, as they tend to do got back to a normal routine. For me that consisted of chores in and around the magic shop, though Mondays have become somber and uneventful of late.
Barnabas decided to give me a break on cleaning out the Brood Worm tank as well as tending to the other animals, which was nice of him. He said I’d go back to doing those unpleasant tasks after my body healed. That unfortunately was proceeding a lot slower than I’d imagined even with Merlin’s assistance. Whenever I moved quickly, coughed or breathed deeply I suffered sharp pangs of shooting pain in my ribs. My doctor says this too shall pass over time and insists that I should stop being negative about my situation, because research shows having an optimistic attitude decreases recovery time.
What does he know any way?
My mind along with my body gradually relaxed as I drifted off to sleep. I like sleep. To me sleep is better than doing drugs or having sex... When you’re not actually doing either, of course. You don’t have to put thought into sleep, it just happens. It’s the waking up part I’ve never been too keen on. Especially when you’re having a kick ass dream, then waking up is like that annoying person that talks during movies or texts while they walk. Sigh... Maybe my doctor’s right. Maybe I need to be happy and optimistic, cause this line of thought isn’t getting me anywhere.
“Perhaps you’d be more comfortable resting in your bed, young Solomon,” said a voice that didn’t originate within my mind.
The voice came from my right. My eyes darted open, my body jerking into action. That’s when a wave of sharp intense pain hit me like an uncoordinated belly flop onto a frozen pool of water. I instinctively grabbed at my injured ribs. Which caused me to spill out of my office chair onto the hardwood floor, resulting in more pain.
Before I knew what was happening a pillow was being placed under my aching head and a soothing hand resting gently on my chest.
“My apologies young Solomon, I shouldn’t have startled you. But as I’ve said before, you really are a careless dull wit. Haven’t recent events taught you to be vigilant even in your own home?”
I knew that voice. I’d only heard it briefly once or twice before. The last time however, being in the ruins of an abandoned church in India. I slowly opened my eyes. Gazing down at me with bright green vampire eyes looking concerned yet disappointed was the face of Avery. Behind those eyes dwelt an old spirit by the name of Merlin.
“Asshole,” I managed.
“I see you haven’t lost your wit young Solomon,”
“What are you doing here,” I asked. Then added. “How did you get in my room?”
Merlin smiled.
“To have a talk with you of course,” Merlin replied. “As for how I gained entrance,” he continued. “Have you forgotten that I’m Merlin, Barnabas’s wards and defenses though powerful are rather quaint,”
I nodded in understanding. If Merlin wanted to get into a secure place he’d find a way. He’s after all THE Merlin. An irrational thought occurred to me, which made me tense.
“You’re not here to drink my blood by any chance... are you,” I asked somewhat concerned.
Merlin chuckled through a wide smile.
“Heavens no,” he replied. “I’ve successfully repressed the Vampiric bloodlust,”
He flexed his hand and arm admiringly.
“And I’m enjoying the benefits of my new stronger body,” he added.
I managed a laugh.
“You’re not becoming vain in your new body are you Merlin,” I asked, a subtle joke contained in my words.
Merlin pondered my question then said.
“Perhaps maybe just a smidgen,” he said gesturing with his thumb and finger indicating the measurement of an inch. “And that’s not all that’s new,”
Merlin reached into his coat pocket producing an iPhone.
“I have this as well,” he said proudly. “This is an amazing invention, these games however leave something to be desired. Very addicting,”
I shook my head in disbelief.
“Where did you get that,” I asked.
“The Apple Store,” he replied as though I were oblivious to the stores existence.
“I should’ve gotten the larger phone I think,”
“No,” I said interrupting. “I meant how did you pay for that… Where did you get the money,” I said incre
dulously.
He placed the iPhone back into his pocket.
“Ah, fortune as it were has smiled upon me,” he began. “The previous owner of this body had a good sum of money to his name as well as an established identity, it didn’t take much effort to learn how banking and commerce worked in this modern world,”
I nodded thoughtfully.
“Aren’t you afraid that Bart or his people will come after you… They know Avery and where he lived,” I asked.
“Come now young Solomon,” Merlin said in a hurt tone.
“Do you honestly believe that I’ve been sitting idling on my laurels eating fast food and playing with electronic devices,” he asked.
I thought about it. No, Merlin would be the last person not to be prepared for the inevitability of revenge. He’d survived more danger and intrigue than I’d had birthdays.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let any upstart hooligan punch my ticket… Did I say that correctly,” he asked?
I burst out laughing, then Merlin followed suit.
“I guess not,” Merlin said.
Which made me laugh even harder. I rolled around on the floor, at last the laughter between us died down. A serious expression filled Merlin’s features as he looked at me.
“I just wanted you to know that I’m grateful that it was you that my crystal eventually came to,” he said.
I smiled nodding.
“Don’t get all emotional on me now,” I said.
He returned my smile with one of his own. Then it faded. He became serious once again.
“I also wanted you to know,” he said continuing. “That the remaining three relics are safe… I’ve hidden them securely, which should satisfy all parties concerned,” He hesitated then added. “If in the future, should you require the use of them, they will forever be at your disposal,”
That’s one burden off my mind. I’d worried that those powerful weapons hadn’t been properly hidden away. I should’ve had more faith in Merlin. He’d saved my behind quite a few times. Come to think of it, he’d given me the tools to improve my magic as well as the control I had over it. Though still being a long way from being good with magic as Barnabas, I was at least on the right and faster track getting there.